Mother
by belaja
Summary: Nothing would ever drive her apart from her son. OoT.


_Happy Mother's Day :D_

* * *

She runs, fleeing from the smoke that fills her lungs, from the fire that burns her limbs, from the death that wants to take her son.

But they follow her, relentlessly. The war, the desolation, death. A loose arrow cuts her cheek; her blood falls on her son's forehead and that must be the only warmth that her body has given him in hours. Her hands are cold, soaked in sweat and dirt. They aren't the sweet and soft hands of a mother, but there's nothing else she can give her son.

She runs, she keeps on running in search of a haven. The Sheikahs won't open the doors of their village; the Zoras are too proud to meddle in Hylian affairs. The desert would kill them both.

And she remembers the tales she heard about the forest, where the spirits keep children safe. But it's too far, a sea of dead bodies and blood away. Another loose arrow flies; this time, it pierces her arm. The pain is so intense that she almost lets her boy fall over a mutilated corpse.

But she would never abandon her son; she clutches her teeth, trying to forget the arrow and the pain, and keeps on moving. The tales also spoke of portals scattered throughout the entire kingdom and, with what little faith she has left after living years of war, she begs, she pleads to the Goddesses to lead her to one. She doesn't care about what They have in store for her as long as her little boy is safe. He's not even a year old yet, and both her husband and she think that a great destiny awaits him.

She sees some droplets of water falling on her baby's forehead, beside the blood, and tells herself to hurry before it starts to rain. She doesn't realise these are her tears—she only knows, she only hopes, that her husband is riding alongside the prince against an army of usurpers. The ocean that surrounds her was their doing, although she doubts that the prince's knights haven't committed crimes as dreadful.

When she trips over the body of a boy—his blond hair covered in ashes; it could have been her son—her mind comes back to reality and she keeps on running aimlessly. She only wants to get away from Castle Town.

* * *

Her legs buckle as she runs from the forest monsters and she wonders whether going through the portal was a mistake. And no matter how much she runs, she hears their call, she hears their invitation to join them.

The only thought in her mind is saving her child, whose cries are the only thing that make the endless maze of roots branches feel alive.

She moves forward, crossing the trunks under the moon darkness and feeling the hatred from the spirits of the forest.

Voices inside her mind tell her to go back before it's too late, but she knows that she can't, not with the skeletons on her—their—trail.

She turns, left, right. She doesn't even know which way she's walking when she sees a light in the distance. As she tries to come closer to it, her body suddenly remembers how one of those monsters slashed her side and falls. Her baby lies on the wet ground and cries.

She wishes she could do something to stop him while she hears skeletal footsteps behind her and the light flies towards her. She sees someone and lets out a scream. Her hands shake and she tries to get up, to no avail; her eyes are filled with tears and she doesn't know whether she's asking that someone for help or begging them not to take a step farther.

It's a girl. A girl all in green, blending with the forest, who curiously moves closer towards her son.

'Don't... don't hurt him. Please.'

The girl gives her a calm smile as she takes the child and brings him closer to his mother.

'Don't worry. The spirits accept him', she says, kneeling down beside her.

But she doesn't trust this girl, this kokiri. She can hear the spirits shouting, telling her again that she doesn't belong here.

She crawls, her blood falling from her side, towards the girl and, before she can say a word, the kokiri speaks again.

'But...' She looks away and presses her lips together. 'I-I'm sorry. The spirits won't let you go deeper into the forest.'

She doesn't let out another cry, but a dry, agonized laugh. When she lived in Castle Town she heard whispered rumours about the desperate souls who ran to the forest never to be seen again. She wanted to believe, clinging to what little hope she had left of seeing her son grow up, that she'd tell him tales and sing him songs. She wanted to believe that nobody or nothing would take him away from her, even though she knew, ever since she stepped in the sea of corpses, that her wish was meaningless.

Again, she tries to get up and her arms give way. The kokiri has her eyes fixed on her, frightened.

'His name... is Link', she manages to say.

Her son looks at her, eyes full of wonder and completely unaware of his surroundings. The innocence she sees in them is enough to make her think that everything was worth it, that her death will not be in vain.

The kokiri extends her hand towards her, as if she wanted to help her, but stops immediately. Still, she begins to believe she can trust the girl; after all, her son is not crying anymore, now that she's holding him in her arms.

'You are...'

'Saria.'

'Take care of my son, Saria... please.'

She smiles, and this time she presses her hand. 'Trust me', she says.

Her arm reaches out for them as they go deeper and deeper into the forest and she hears the skeletons' footsteps closer and closer. And she hears the spirits of the forest once more: they also need help.

* * *

Its bones smell of fresh grass and blood.

The only thought in its skill is of a pair of innocent eyes that it feels it must protect at all costs.

It's the only thing in its mind as it swings its sword against the intruders who dare desecrate the forest. It's the only thing in its mind as it slices into their flesh.

It won't let those eyes lose their innocence.

* * *

It doesn't know how many times the sun has set until it finds that innocence once more. It sees it in the eyes of one of the forest children... no. He's not one of them. He doesn't have a fairy.

He doesn't belong to the forest and thus, he must be eliminated. The other skeletons are already surrounding him, but it can't, it doesn't want to join them. The only emotion it has memory of overwhelms it. It draws its sword, steel slicing through bone. It only takes a few seconds.

The boy doesn't flinch, his head hanging down. He doesn't see the slaughter; he doesn't see it coming. And when he notices its presence, he raises his head, fire in his eyes, as if he believed that this time he would be able to fight the monster standing in front of him.

And the only thing it wants is to calm him down, to tell him that everything is all right. It even tries to say these words. It tries to move its jaw, but the only sound that comes is a muffled growl.

While it lets out sounds that even it can't understand, the boy takes the opportunity to hit it with a stick that he'd hidden behind his back and runs away.

It can't comprehend the feeling that overcomes it now.

* * *

The boy left the forest with a fairy a thousand of nightfalls ago.

It can't understand it. It can't understand why it spares the lives of the humans smelling of death who desecrate the forest. In some way, it even helps them cross the maze of branches and monsters, letting them find a safe haven.

It fights against the other skeletons in order to defend the humans; countless slashes run through its bones. And, no matter how deep they are, they could never hurt as much as the blow that the boy gave it.

It doesn't hear the voices of the spirits of the forest anymore. It's now a human voice who commands it to go to the temple.

Death. The smell of death pervades the defiled temple. The forest used to be safe; the voice, the man it belongs to, has filled it with monsters worse than the skeletons.

Some footsteps echo behind its back. A girl. The orders it'd been given said that it had to kill a girl. It walks towards her, its phalanxes clenched on the hilt of its sword. It raises the blade over its skull before glimpsing recognition in her eyes.

'I'm sorry.'

Whatever made it help so many humans stops its arm. Swinging the blade forward, watching her bleed under the cold touch of steel would be so easy...

'I... I couldn't take care of him... L-Link. He's coming.'

When it hears this name, it sheathes the sword and lets her go.

* * *

The warrior's blade shines in the devastated temple. The other skeletons fall under slashes swung with more determination than skill. It's the only left.

The human who stands before it is not a warrior. No, he's nothing but a scared boy, with blood on his cheeks, soaked in sweat and dirt. He spins around it, his fist clenching the hilt.

It can't bring itself to draw its. It fixes its stare on his childish eyes.

A small fairy buzzes around him, uttering the same name that the girl from before said.

The fairy speaks the name once more, and its senses catch the distant smell of fire and smoke, of blood and death. A baby's cries echo in its skull.

She finally sheathes her sword and swings it forward, in a way that isn't even intended to touch him.

He easily dodges her attack. Before the blade cuts slices into her vertebras, an incomprehensible growl comes from her jaw.

'Link.'


End file.
